One Way to Make a Date
by JantoJones
Summary: Getting a date U.N.C.L.E. style (Prequel to 'Scars')


**This is a prequel to my Het story 'Scars'. This one is Gen and is basically how Illya and Penny ended up on the date in the first place.**

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Napoleon Solo rarely ventured into the labs, but he was on a mission. His partner had been squirreled away down here for the last two days, trying to analyse an unidentified THRUSH object they'd found on their last Affair. U.N.C.L.E. had an entire department to do that but, because he had some spare time, Illya had decided to perform his other function; that of scientist. Even though he wasn't a part of Research & Development, Illya had his own small lab and office, and a fair amount of autonomy. Napoleon found the Russian in his lab, glancing through a pile of papers.

"Good evening Tovarisch," Napoleon greeted him and sat on the edge of the desk.

Illya looked up at his partner with a puzzled expression.

"It's evening?" He asked, looking at his watch.

"It is," Solo confirmed. "I've come down to offer you dinner. Partly to get you out into the fresh air, but mainly to thank you for saving me from that bullet on that last mission."

"You've thanked me already Napoleon."

"Are you actually turning down a free meal?" The American was astounded.

"I never said that."

They were interrupted by a lab tech, who immediately drew Napoleon's attention, but who ignored him almost completely. The dark haired beauty only had eyes for one man in the room, and it wasn't the CEA. Unfortunately, the object of her longing didn't seem to take much notice of her.

"I have the information you asked for Dr Kuryakin," she said sweetly, as she handed the file over.

"Thank you Penny," Illya replied, without looking up.

The young woman smiled sadly at Napoleon, before leaving. Solo looked from her to his partner and shook his head. The man seemed to be oblivious to the poor woman's desires. Still, that was his loss.

"She called you Dr Kuryakin."

"She would," Illya answered. "In the lab I'm addressed by my proper title."

"Makes you sound like a spy movie villain," Napoleon laughed at his own joke.

"If anything, I would have thought I was a spy movie hero."

"Yeah," Solo agreed." But it's always the villain who is known by a title. You know, doctor, professor, lord. That sort of thing."

"Napoleon, if I promise to meet you at reception in half an hour, will you take your terrible sense of humour somewhere else?"

Solo grinned. "Okay, but if you aren't up by 7:15, I'm coming back down."

Twenty minutes later, Illya was finally ready to go and meet his partner. He was just taking off his lab coat when Penny dashed back into the office.

"Dr Kuryakin, the object is doing something."

Illya didn't stop to ask questions. He darted into his lab and cautiously peered at the object on the bench. He had been working on the principle that the shoe box sized object was some sorted of data storage unit. Looking at it now, he was less certain. It was vibrating loudly and there seemed to be some heat radiating off it.

"Get out!" He yelled to Penny.

He held back to allow her to leave before him and as a result he blocked her from the explosion. It wasn't a big blast, but it was enough to destroy the lab and caused Illya to be thrown on top of Penny. Alarms started blaring all over the building, but Illya was in no condition to hear them.

"Dr Kuryakin?" Penny whispered. She was barely able to speak due to having an unconscious Russian draped over her. "Dr Kuryakin, please don't be dead."

She tried to roll him off but they'd managed to fall in a doorway, so there was nowhere for him to go.

"Dr Kuryakin?" She tried again.

A groan from above her, told Penny that Illya was still alive.

"I think, under the circumstances," he groaned. "You can call me Illya. Are you hurt?"

Penny giggled, a little hysterically. The man had just been hit in the back by an explosion and he was concerned about her well-being.

"A little squashed," she gasped. "But I'm otherwise fine."

Illya tried to move himself, but his legs didn't seem to want to obey him. However, he was relieved to realise he could at least still feel them.

"Why is it taking so long for help to arrive?" Penny queried.

"Blast doors," Illya explained. "As soon as an explosion is sensed, they automatically come down. Only Mr Waverly, Napoleon or myself can override the ones protecting this lab."

As soon as he finished speaking, a security team burst in, followed by Napoleon and a medical team.

"Really Tovarisch, if you didn't want to have dinner with me, you only had to say."

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Less than an hour later, Illya was already demanding to be let out of medical. He had no chance of course, as his doctor wanted to make sure there was no permanent damage. The bomb hadn't been powerful, but if it had gone off in someone's face it would have killed them. Penny the lab tech had been checked over and declared fit. Deciding to visit Dr Kuryakin, she found him accusing a nurse of holding him captive.

"I'll come back later," she mumbled.

"No, please come in," Illya insisted. "Maybe you can persuade Lucretia Borgia here that I am fine."

"Lucretia Borgia?" Penny chuckled.

The nurse sighed. "Mr Kuryakin, who can endure most of the tortures THRUSH can devise, is a little averse to a tiny syringe."

If looks truly could kill, the nurse would have been a pile of ash on the floor.

"I'm sure they've only got your interests at heart Dr Kuryakin."

"I thought we were on first name terms now," he said with a smile.

Taking the opportunity, the nurse left her belligerent patient with his visitor. His whole demeanour had changed since her arrival so maybe she could keep him calm.

"I wanted to thank you for saving my life Dr . . . erm . . . Illya."

"It is what I do," The Russian told her, with a self-depreciating shrug. "May I ask you something Penny?"

"Please do."

"Would you allow me to take you to dinner?"

Penny could have swooned. Illya had barely looked at her up to this point, but it seemed that lying on top of her had made him notice.

"Yes," she accepted. "Just let me know when you're free."

The End.


End file.
